


Someone Like You

by Aphelionite



Category: Major Crimes (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:46:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphelionite/pseuds/Aphelionite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy drops Sharon home after The Nutcracker...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I've since learned that there are no cameras in Sharon's building but I like Sharon's thoughts regarding them so I'm leaving them in anyway. My first stab at Major Crimes, please be kind ;)

Lt. Flynn pulled into a space a short walk from Captain Raydor's building and cut the engine with more than a little trepidation. She was going to bring it up, he knew it, it was too much to hope that she would just quietly go along with it all. He hadn't expected her to be quite so blunt about it though.

'Does Nicole think we're dating?'

'What? No!' he lied, a knee-jerk reaction when he knew it was futile: he'd trodden on her attempts to correct the impression too many times tonight for his denials to be believable.

'Andy,' she coaxed quietly. 'Why would you let them think that?'

He fiddled with his keys, not quite meeting her eye. The seconds ticked by but Sharon was not going to be the one to break the silence.

'I guess I just thought, you know,' he met her gaze and quickly glanced away again, embarrassed, 'if they thought someone like you would look twice at me maybe - maybe there'd be some hope for me after all. I was a lousy father and a worse husband, I know that. I still got a lot to make up for. I just want the chance, you know?' He stared at the steering-wheel so disconsolately that Sharon couldn't help slipping off her seatbelt and caressing his arm in an attempt to comfort him.

'You'll get it. You will,' she assured him when he gave an unconvinced shrug. 'It takes a lot of courage to admit your mistakes and try to start over,' she thought of Jack and how he lacked this particular brand of bravery. 'I admire it.' She smiled a little when he looked at her, surprised that he could win any sort of admiration from her. 'But-' His gaze dropped again, this time reminding her of Rusty. She suppressed a laugh. How was it that a man like Andy Flynn, a homicide detective, ex-addict and father, someone with so much life experience, could so often put her in mind of a teenage boy? 'But,' she said again, pressing his forearm in emphasis, 'it takes a lot longer to rebuild trust than it does to break it. You just have to be patient. Eventually they'll see you for who you are now, someone who wants to be the best father he can. Just don't give up. As long as you're in their lives in any way there's hope.'

'I guess so,' he shrugged, looking marginally reassured. 'It's just, it's easier when you're there. People actually talk to me,' he tried to laugh but she could see how much it hurt him to be a part of his daughter's life and still somehow separate.

Having Sharon accompany him to Nicole's wedding had been a revelation to Andy. For the first time since he'd gotten sober, he'd actually enjoyed a family gathering and his many in-laws had not completely disdained his presence. It seemed so effortless for his captain, making small-talk, winning smiles with her thoughtful questions about everyone's kids and waxing eloquent about her own. People could tell what kind of a person she was, what a good mother she was, and he was made whiter in her reflected glow.

'I don't mind being your buffer, I'm happy to help, but they're gonna find out eventually, and the longer you leave it the harder it's gonna be,' she told him matter-of-factly.

Flynn found himself wondering why it shouldn't be the truth. It wasn't just other people's perceptions of him and Sharon that had made these last two occasions so successful, he was different when she was around, lighter, more inclined to smile than scowl. It was funny, he'd never noticed how hot she was when she was running Internal Affairs…

'Well, thank you for dinner,' she smiled, fishing her handbag out of the foot-well.

'Least I could do,' he said easily. 'It wasn't a bad night, was it? For the ballet…'

She laughed. 'Not bad at all. I guess I'll see you next week.'

'From your lips…' he sent up to the heavens. If his shopping trip with Provenza went awry tomorrow, which he already suspected it would, he'd need the rest of the squads' week off to find the twins decent Christmas presents. He was still hoping for an invite to Christmas dinner with his daughter and there was no way he could turn up empty handed.

She leaned over to peck him on the cheek, her intent no more than a friendly goodnight, but her intent quickly turned to surprise when her lips landed squarely on his. Having successfully accomplished the kiss on the cheek manoeuvre countless times in her life, Sharon was pretty sure the error had not been on her end. And yet she had not jerked back, her hand remained on his bicep, her eyes had drifted closed of their own volition and she was not hating the soft pressure of his mouth on hers, nor the glide of his hand from her elbow to her shoulder.

She heard his seat creak and felt the feather-light caress of his fingers on her neck and jaw before the shiver down her spine finally brought her to her senses and she pulled back. Andy didn't look as surprised as she felt. Perhaps she shouldn't be so stunned but she was so used to her colleagues detesting her…

She swallowed, floundering for something to say in the face of his obvious question. 'I…' she stammered. 'I should get back to Rusty. I'll, uh, I'll see you at work.' She opened the door and slipped out into the night, tripping two paces before turning back and stooping to say an awkward 'Goodnight' through the open passenger window.

By the time Flynn raised a hand in farewell, she was already fast receding in his wing-mirror. 'Stupid,' he muttered to himself, starting the engine. Of course she wouldn't be interested in him…

Sharon pushed the button for the lift with visions of Rusty's protection detail sitting open-mouthed in front of the security screens. Okay, so she knew that the building's cameras didn't extend far enough up the street for them to have really seen anything but she couldn't shake the feeling of exposure that warmed her chest and neck as the lift doors slid open and she clacked inside, hitting the button for the top floor.

She resisted the urge to slump against the wall, knowing the security cameras most certainly could see her now and, in her paranoia, not wanting to give anyone watching further fodder for speculation. In other words, she did not intend to return to work to rumours of her swooning after a date with Andy Flynn where they may or may not have kissed.

She was glad to reach the relative privacy of her condo. Rusty was encamped on the sofa with a mostly empty bowl of popcorn on the cushion beside him. He glanced guiltily at the can of coke on the coffee table but said, 'You're home early.'

'Ah, well, the ballerinas needed their sleep,' she said, slipping her heels off with a sigh. 'It was an exciting night for them.' She knew the last thing Rusty wanted to hear about was a ballet recital and if she threatened to gush about it she would get away to her bedroom all the quicker. 'You should have seen-'

'Uh, Sharon?' he said, and she smiled at the predicted excuse for him to turn his attention back to the TV, knowing he wasn't as invested in the film as he was trying to make out.

'Oh sure. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow,' she promised with a devious smile. 'I'm gonna go change.' Rusty simply raised a hand in acknowledgement, eyes glued to the onscreen explosions.

It wasn't until she was safely ensconced in her room, slipping out of her slinky black evening dress, that she allowed herself to examine how she felt about Flynn making a pass at her. Her eyes caught her reflection in the full length mirror and she wondered if Andy would have found her as attractive had he suspicions of the cunning underwear that smoothed her curves and let her wear the kind of dress she wished she'd had the guts to wear in her thirties, when her figure hadn't needed quite so much structural support.

Of course it occurred to her that he might not really be attracted to her at all, that it was the bridge she provided that he coveted. She didn't think that was the case, but maybe that had more to do with her own feelings than his. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't found his unexpected support utterly disarming at times, or didn't melt a little when he blessed her with one of his rare, uncensored, almost bashful smiles. Not that they had been rare tonight, she mused, removing her jewellery, either at dinner or the show. And she'd been truthful when she said she admired the effort he was making with his daughter which, right or wrong, added another layer to his attractiveness for her. She had to ask herself how much that had to do with Jack and her hopes for his relationship with their children. Probably a lot but it factored in Andy's favour none-the-less.

And so, if she admitted she had a soft spot for the cynical detective and allowed herself to believe his interest was genuine, how did she feel about him kissing her..?

Torn for a start. She was in the best shape she'd ever been in career-wise, she finally had a position that earned her the respect rather than resentment of her colleagues, and that was not something she wanted to jeopardise. Getting into a serious relationship with a member of her own team ran the risk of wrecking the effectiveness of said team should the relationship not work out.

But she was getting ahead of herself; could she even see herself in a relationship with him? The short answer was yes, yes she could. There had been a moment there in the car, before they'd kissed, when his words had made her stomach flutter.

…if they thought someone like you would look twice at me maybe there'd be some hope for me after all…

Someone like you…

She suddenly found herself questioning what he'd meant by that. At the time she'd taken it as a compliment, especially with the self-conscious way he'd said it, but what if he'd meant something else? What if he'd only meant to call her a goody-two-shoes? No, she told herself. Though she wouldn't put it past him, it was the way he'd said it that had flipped her stomach and she trusted her gut. It felt rejuvenating to be regarded in such a way and it had been a good long while since anyone had shown this kind of interest in her.

But she was cautious by nature, not likely to jump in without thinking through the possible consequences, and this thing had crept up on her so suddenly that she hadn't had time to consider them properly yet. She found she was even more glad that the squad was taking a week off in the run up to Christmas and hoped that she would know her own mind better when next she saw him.


	2. The Light of Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still disclaimed.
> 
> AN: Set during 2.15 "Curve Ball"

The Light of Day

This was not how Sharon had envisioned her pre-Christmas vacation going. It wasn't like she hadn't suspected that it might not last the week they'd been promised but it hadn't even been twenty-four hours before her phone started ringing. And it had continued ringing since she'd been in the back of a seldom opened cupboard getting overfriendly with a pile of prehensile tinsel and fairy-lights. Rusty had finally brought her phone in only to find her on the floor trying to disentangle her ankle from the Christmas decorations and muttering words he hadn't even thought she knew.

'Do you need back-up?' he'd asked, not troubling to smother his grin.

She'd stopped short of making a joke about the difficulties of coming out of the closet, sighing when he showed her the caller ID.

'This had better be good, Lieutenant.'

Fortunately, with the team already processing the scene, she'd had time to clean herself up and change and still made it to the station ahead of the others to be briefed. She was in the break-room, just dropping her teabag into the bin, when Andy Flynn came in, tripping over his own feet at the unexpected sight of her.

She wasn't quite sure what to say herself after their romantic interlude the night before, despite lying awake into the small hours trying to figure out how she felt about him. Now was not the time to continue her ruminations however; now was the time to focus on work, she chided herself.

Andy managed to get his feet, and mouth, working again. 'Coffee duty,' he shrugged guiltily, trying to smile as he busied himself with the coffee-pot, no doubt in the dog-house with the rest of the squad after ruining their plans and wondering if she was about to condemn him too. 'Hope you weren't in the middle of something.'

'Nothing that can't wait,' she said evenly, almost shoulder to shoulder with him as she stirred her tea; after all, he had done the right thing - he just had abominable timing. 'What?' she asked, looking up to find him smiling at her. Suddenly she was afraid he was going to say something about last night and was sorry she'd asked the question.

He pulled the handkerchief from his breast-pocket. 'You've got a little schmutz…' he murmured, gently dabbing her jaw.

Sharon swallowed, stepping back uncomfortably and taking the handkerchief, trying not to brush his hand.

'Probably dust, I was pulling out some old boxes - gone?' she asked, having vigorously rubbed the area, trying to scrub away the pleasurable but distracting sensations he had evoked as well as the dirt. He nodded.

He got it. God knew he was no catch and probably so did Sharon; she'd read his file, hell she'd probably written half of it. He didn't delude himself that the badge he carried fooled her into thinking he was a good person and he knew better than anyone that even when he tried to do the right thing it usually had a way of backfiring. Like today. When he'd asked himself what Sharon would want him to do the answer hadn't exactly been 'ruin her vacation'… He should just count himself lucky that she was willing to help him out with Nicole and leave it at that, less chance of her ending up an accidental victim of his monumental bad luck that way.

'I'll see you in there,' she said, handing him back the handkerchief and heading for the door.

'Uh, Sharon?' He knew he probably wouldn't get another chance to speak to her alone for a while. She paused for a split-second before turning back to face him, braced. 'About last night -'

She raised a hand, 'Andy, I don't think -'

'Listen,' he said, stepping closer, dropping his voice to a more intimate volume, 'I just wanna say that we should forget about it.' He shrugged casually, trying to act as if it didn't bother him. 'I mean, you're a married woman, after all. And we work together.'

He thought she looked relieved as she nodded, 'I completely agree.'

But she realised as she said it that she was disappointed. While she hadn't been ready to make a decision yet there was a reason she had been considering it in the first place. True, he had a chequered history, there was no getting around it, but he'd changed since his transfer to Major Crimes, his file reflected that too. Surrounded by a team who had his back had brought out his own loyalty; caring about how his actions reflected on his colleagues had made him a better officer and, since taking over Major Crimes, Sharon had experienced this camaraderie first-hand. Outside of the job, she cared less about his past problems than she did about his current efforts to remedy them; maybe all he needed was for someone to believe in him.

And maybe this time she'd found someone who would support her too. Or at least, she'd thought she'd found him. Unfortunately he had already thought better of making a move on her, a record rejection time for her, a new all-time low. It wasn't like he hadn't known she was his married co-worker last night...

Maybe it was for the best, she consoled herself. It simplified things at least. But she couldn't deny the pang she felt as he smiled and said, 'Great. So we're okay?'

She attempted to smile back, not sure how well she was succeeding as she said, 'Of course.'

Provenza banged into the room a moment later, looking at them both entirely too suspiciously for Sharon's liking. 'Some of us would like to solve this case before Christmas,' he barked, gesturing for the Captain to precede him from the break-room and shooting Flynn a murderous look. 'Hurry up with those coffees!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry it's so short, I'm just writing my own scenes into the show really (cuz I'm lazy and can't be bothered to write a coherent story lol) so updates will probably be dependent on how much Shandy inspires me in the series ;) They've only just aired the first episode of season three here in the UK so no spoilers please if you're lovely enough to review :P Thanks for reading x


	3. While the Brat's Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set between episodes 2.18 & 19\. Sorry, the working title stuck, lol.

It was too quiet. No matter how much Sharon tried to fill the apartment with noise, she couldn't fill the void that was Rusty's absence. While she knew that his change of address was for his own good and he was only a few miles away, she couldn't help feeling that she - and her sidearm - should be right there with him and it filled her with a restlessness that wouldn't let her sit still for more than two minutes together. She was pacing barefoot, reading the FBI report on the letters for the millionth time, when she heard voices out in the hallway. She paused, eyeing her gun on the side table, waiting to hear if it was a neighbour exchanging niceties with the officers assigned to watch over her until Stroh's preliminary hearing next week. No jangling of keys or unlocking of doors could be heard though, just the indistinct murmur of voices going on far too long for Sharon's liking.

She silently sidled up to the peep-hole, swapping the file for the cold, reassuring weight of her weapon en route, rolling her eyes and yanking open the door when she realised who it was. 'Lieutenant Flynn.'

The on-duty officers jumped to attention, one of them whipping his hand out of a paper bag the lieutenant was holding as if he'd been burnt: they knew as well as she did that they weren't much use as guards if they were more interested in their stomachs than their surroundings.

'News?' she asked, foregoing the verbal reprimand, this time.

'Oh, uh, no, I, uh,' he glanced towards the officers uncomfortably, lowering his voice a little though their proximity made the effort pointless. 'I thought you could … use some company, maybe.'

She looked at the officers who quickly busied themselves with checking the corridor. 'They still haven't found a ballistics match?' she asked, not really expecting an answer but keen not to give the officers any ideas as she stepped back to let Andy in and re-engaged the safety on her gun.

'Nothing in California. Tau's checking out of state but,' he shrugged helplessly, depositing his bags on the dining table.

'It could take days,' she finished for him with a sigh of frustration. Their guy was too smart to use a traceable weapon. His fingerprints and DNA were their most likely bet, any links to other crimes could give them invaluable clues to his identity, but checking with the various agencies nationwide would take even longer than matching the bullets. The hearing was in four days.

'Listen, they'll call if there's any news,' he reminded her. 'Why don't you try to take your mind off it for a while?'

Sharon snorted bitterly, pulling out one of the chairs and dropping into it, rubbing her face. If only she could stop the incessant cycle of unhappier endings going through her head. 'He nearly killed him, Andy. He was this close…' she shook her head. It could all have ended so differently…

Flynn sat, too, squeezing her hand. 'It wasn't your fault, the kid didn't follow orders.'

'I should never have let him participate in the first place,' she argued firmly, clearly not about to be swayed from blaming herself.

Andy sighed, stuck for something comforting to say. 'Have you eaten?' he asked instead, starting to pull containers out of the bags. 'I stopped at Luigi's on the way.'

She'd cooked herself dinner but as for consuming it, the moment she'd started eating she found she was no longer hungry - but at least washing up after had killed ten minutes. 'Ah-ah!' she chided, instantly distracted despite herself as Andy began to pull the lid off a tomato-based dish, fearing for her white tablecloth. 'Here,' she picked up the nearest tubs, carrying them over to the kitchen counter and pulling out crockery and cutlery.

'Aren't you having any? I think I brought enough for four.'

The smell was making her mouth water a little… 'Maybe just a little of the carbonara,' she relented, grabbing another plate and fork.

'Yes, ma'am.'

She couldn't help but be comforted by his presence. It had been weeks since their little indiscretion in his car and his subsequent rejection of her, and the sting had faded enough for her to still be able to appreciate what a supportive friend she had in him. She supposed that was the last remaining thorn of regret that pricked at her when they were together like this, knowing that they could have been good for each other, given the chance.

They talked about the kids for a while, a topic no proud parent could ever exhaust, until Sharon's phone beeped and she pounced on it with an eagerness that might have been insulting at any other time. The tension drained from her shoulders when she saw who it was. 'Rusty,' she said, smiling fondly at the text message. '"Please feed me something green when I get home."'

Andy laughed. 'And it's only been one day.'

'I think I'll be needing something green myself after this,' she said, indicating their empty plates as she tapped out a reply to her foster-son.

'Don't start the diet just yet,' he said, pulling dessert out of the bag with a flourish. 'Tiramisu.'

'I couldn't,' she declined, patting her belly in emphasis.

'Keep it for later,' he suggested; he'd gotten it for her anyway, knowing how much she liked it. Besides, sugar had always worked on Chief Johnson's mood.

She smiled, and he wondered how the butterflies had room to flutter in his stomach with the amount of Italian he'd just consumed. How was it that with one smile she made him feel worthwhile? As if, perhaps, the best years of his love life were not behind him. Not for the first time, he regretted being so quick to dismiss what had happened between them and sometimes he could almost swear she did too. Or was he imagining the 'what if' in her eyes? Did he like the idea of being with her so much that he saw what he wanted to see? The thought kept him from making another rash move.

There was another problem of course, one he only considered because he knew Sharon would, as attached to the rules as she was. Department policy dictated that dating officers were required to inform their superiors of such, which in this case would be Chief Taylor. He didn't relish the thought, although Taylor had been considerably less of a pain in the ass since becoming Assistant Chief (and the boss of everyone) so he probably wouldn't use it to make trouble. Would 'probably' be good enough for Sharon though? And would Flynn be prepared for reassignment if a time came when Taylor decided to use their relationship as leverage to get his own way and Sharon refused to compromise her integrity?

The longer he thought about it the more confused he became about what to do, even if he was getting more and more sure of his feelings for Sharon. He just wished he knew what she was thinking…

'I'd better get these plates in the dishwasher,' she sighed, suddenly feeling every bit as tired as she should be given how little sleep she'd gotten the night before.

'I've got it,' he said, rising, but she laughed.

'It took Rusty a week to learn how to stack it right.'

'Fine, I'll rinse, you stack,' he amended, hanging his jacket on the back of the chair and rolling up his shirt-sleeves.

That was another thing she liked about him; he knew a man could do dishes as well as a woman could solve murders. She couldn't remember Jack ever washing so much as a teaspoon. She couldn't help comparisons to Jack at times like these, remembering how completely and utterly lonely it had been trying to manage two young children, a home and a career with him as a husband. It was a sad commentary on her marriage just how much seeing Andy roll up his sleeves and pitch in melted her heart.

Why did he do that though? If he wasn't interested then why was he so sweet to her? And why was it that his being so sweet without expecting anything romantic in return made him all the more desirable? There was that thorn again, threatening to burst her bubble of platonic contentment.

'I guess it's late,' said Andy, as she closed the dishwasher on the evidence of a sinful dinner, hiding an irresistible yawn behind her hand.

'Thank you for the company,' she said genuinely.

'Anytime,' he nodded and the look he gave her produced not so much a prick as a stab of longing. In that moment, if he'd tried kissing her again he might have ended up staying the night. He didn't though, he just put her dessert in the fridge and got his jacket on. She walked him to the door.

'Can I give you some money for dinner?' she asked, reaching for her purse.

He held up a hand to stop her. 'You can get the next one. When all this is over,' he said meaningfully. 'Which it will be soon,' he reminded her.

She smiled a little, but could feel the knot of worry returning with Andy's departure. 'Not soon enough.'

He squeezed her shoulder. 'We're not gonna let anything happen to him.'

She shook her head as if trying to shake away the intrusive thoughts. 'I know,' she said. She did. This maniac would get to Rusty over everyone's dead bodies.

It seemed another eternal moment before Andy said, 'I'll see you in the morning then,' his hand sliding the length of her arm to briefly press her fingers. For a second she didn't let go, though whether in gratitude, friendship or something more she wasn't sure.

'Goodnight,' she said, suddenly incapable of thinking of anything else to say. She just hoped she wasn't blushing noticeably as she released him to unlock and open the door.

He smiled softly as he passed, touching her arm again. 'Night.'


	4. Only Connect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little extension to Flight Risk (3.1)

They all had days where they questioned how much good they really did, where catching the culprit felt like no victory at all because the victims were already beyond any help they could render. Justice was cold comfort sometimes, hell, most of the time when it came to murder, and Sharon was newer to this than her Major Crimes colleagues, her skin was not quite so thick after a career in the Force Investigation Division, although for the most part she hid it well. Today she would have given anything for an elephant's hide, because all her maternal empathy felt like a chisel through her heart right now. Then again, judging by Julio's reaction, maybe no amount of experience could inoculate you against some cases…

Lieutenant Provenza, who had been waiting for them outside the ladies room, supported Mrs Logan back to her mother and sister giving Sharon a few minutes to compose herself, at least enough to leave the bathroom. There was a whiff of vomit in the air as she wet her hands under the cold tap and patted her face and neck, breathing deeply. When she looked up, her reflection in the mirror appeared every bit as haunted as she felt.

There was no sign of Rusty when she returned to the squad room where Julio and Amy, who was still in her dress from her date the night before, were boxing up the evidence of their latest case, making room on the murder board for the next victim, Sharon thought despairingly. She drew the blinds in her office and sank into her chair, staring at the crime-scene photos lined up on her desk for a long time before slowly sliding them together and tucking them into a folder as carefully as she might tuck a child into bed. Her mobile pulsed, indicating a missed text or call and she found a message from Rusty saying that he had an errand to run and would see her at home.

Ever more mysterious but a mystery that could wait. Rusty was eighteen now, he had a right to his privacy and Sharon knew she was not the only person he could turn to for advice. Whatever he was hiding, he at least seemed able to confide in Lieutenant Provenza, so she wasn't overly concerned.

'Hey.'

Lieutenant Flynn darkened her doorway, two steaming cups in his hands. He'd waited, as promised.

'Hey,' she responded quietly, sliding some papers out of the way so he could set their coffees down and pull one of the chairs around her desk. They simply coexisted in silence for a long while, slowly draining their cups, their shared sadness a third presence in the room like a low, melancholy chord, unheard but felt down to the marrow. It was enough to just sit together. Besides, anything they might have thought of to say was so obvious as to be redundant: they were so young; they didn't deserve it; it was so pointless, so tragic, so not fair.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the thought she had been pushing firmly to the back of her mind ever since watching the footage from the dump-site overwhelmed her, bringing up bile, and she swivelled towards the bin, scrabbling to keep from getting any in her hair. Nothing rattled the nerves so deeply as the thought of your own children meeting the same terrible fate as your victims and she had spent all day desperately NOT comparing these kids to Ricky and Emily in order to do her job but, in the end, didn't all the parents go home and hug their kids a little harder after a day like this? Didn't they all thank god it had not been their child? Didn't they all shudder at the thought that it ever could have been? No parent should ever have to outlive their children. It was a nightmare, the very worst.

A tissue appeared at her elbow and she took it gratefully, wiping her mouth. Fortunately she hadn't had the time or appetite to eat anything today so it had mostly been coffee. 'I'm sorry,' she apologised, embarrassed.

He shook his head. 'We've all been there. Sometimes our line of work is hard to stomach.'

He wasn't kidding, she thought, opening her top drawer in search of a mint to get the acrid taste out of her mouth.

'Can I make a suggestion?' he asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

'Of course,' she permitted, though she couldn't think of anything he could possibly say to make her feel any better about the senseless deaths of a four and six year old.

'Call your kids,' he said simply, nodding towards the phone. 'You don't have to tell them anything, it just helps hearing their voices sometimes…'

She wondered if he felt like he had the same recourse. 'Are you going to call Nicole?' she asked.

He took a deep breath, leaning back again. 'Actually I was thinking of asking them all out to dinner tomorrow night,' he said, looking a little surprised at his own daring. She couldn't help smiling.

'You should,' she encouraged. He didn't always need an occasion as an excuse to see his family. For all intents and purposes, he was a grandfather now and she knew he was warming up to the role. He could never get back the years with Nicole but perhaps his daughter might gain some perspective as a new parent and he would get to be the kind of role-model and support to her step-sons that he wished he'd been for her when she was younger. Sharon wanted that for Andy. Family was important.

He nodded, looking a little surer of himself now that he had her approval. 'I will.'

'Good.' She glanced at her watch; almost ten o'clock. She still had her report to write but she could work on it at home, to which end she began gathering her things. Andy got to his feet, picking up their empty cups. 'Thank you,' she said, somehow managing to convey the all the affection and gratitude she felt with those two little words. He smiled a little.

'See you tomorrow,' he said, glancing pointedly at the phone again before he left.

She looked at it too, tapping her fingernail against the tabletop contemplatively. Emily would most probably be in bed with New York three hours ahead but Ricky should still be up. She slipped the files into her briefcase and switched off the lamps before bringing his number up on her mobile. 'Hi, honey,' she said, pulling the door closed behind her and raising a hand in farewell to the others as she headed towards the exit, catching Andy's eye last. 'No no, nothing's wrong, I just… wanted to hear your voice…'


End file.
